


New Places, Old Habits

by floralsuitian



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Early Mornings, Heavy sexual content, Light foreplay, M/M, domestic husbands, mornings in bed, post s10, soft scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28229799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralsuitian/pseuds/floralsuitian
Summary: The phrase "old habits die hard" is kind of a mystery when it comes to these two.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 6
Kudos: 169





	New Places, Old Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Because we got such a lovely ep3 on Saturday/Sunday, thought it was a good time to post this chapter. Need I say more? LOL 
> 
> Enjoy friends!!

It was their first morning in their new place. The first morning waking up without the hustle and bustle of siblings and in-laws and nieces and nephews. The first morning where it was just _them._ Ian always dreamed of getting to wake up in their own apartment, in their own space without anyone to bother them. Always dreamed of it but thought it was impossible. He never thought he would get out of the house, thought he would be living there forever, and for a while it seemed that way. But they had been saving money, had been budgeting and looking into cheap but nice places to live, somewhere for them to (maybe) raise a little family one day. 

Lip and Tami helped. Mickey didn’t like it, wanted him and Ian to do it alone, but he _did_ thank them for throwing in some money for the down payment and Ian was proud of him for not losing his shit over it. 

They still had things to unpack, mostly things for the living room and kitchen area and they needed a couch or something to sit on in the living room instead of the floor so that was next on their list. They also needed a bed frame since they were currently just sleeping on a mattress on the floor in their room, but that could wait too. For now. 

Ian woke up first, reached for his phone on the floor to check the time. It was barely 8am; he was off today and thankfully so was Mickey. Ian checks to make sure he has no work emails or alerts and sets his phone back down, turning over to face his still sleeping husband. Ian pets his fingers through Mickey’s hair, drags his thumb over his temple gently so to not wake him. He’s breathing softly, his lips parted and his hands are tucked underneath the sheet. Ian smiles at him, leans forward to softly kiss the bridge of his nose and he stirs awake gently. He inhales, then exhales through a yawn and removes his hands from the sheet to rub at his eyes. Ian smiles at him again, reaches his hand over to him to pet his fingers through his hair again. Mickey groans but finally opens his tired eyes, blinks up at Ian. Smiles lazily at him.

“Morning, husband,” Ian grins; Mickey snorts at him. 

“You’re an idiot,” Mickey mumbles, his eyes still drifting in and out of sleep but he musters up enough energy to lift a hand and reaches over to gently touch Ian’s face. Ian hums when Mickey’s thumb brushes over his cheekbone gently. Mickey smiles at him again. 

“You hear that?” Ian grins cheekily, scooting closer to his partner. Mickey wrinkles his eyebrow, shakes his head. 

“No?” he chuckles confusedly.

“Exactly,” Ian leans forward, places his lips to Mickey’s and Mickey chuckles again, catching on. 

“It’s quiet,” Ian pulls away from his lips, trails his own down Mickey’s jaw, to the space between his neck and throat while Mickey keeps his hands busy ghosting over Ian’s back. 

“You’re really such an idiot,” Mickey laughs breathlessly while Ian continues his gentle assault of peppering kisses along his skin. 

“We’re all alone,” Ian places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot underneath Mickey’s ear and he bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“In _our_ apartment,” Ian emphasizes, Mickey chuckles again. 

“Got a nice ring to it,” Mickey says. Ian smiles against his skin, swings his left leg over Mickey’s torso to lay over his body. He’s warm and soft and relaxed like he usually is in the mornings but this time feels different. Feels more like _them._

“Our own place,” Ian’s smiling so wide that it makes Mickey’s stomach flip the way it would if you were on an upside-down ride at a fair and he runs his fingertips across Ian’s chest as he hovers over Mickey.

“You’re a fucking dork,” Mickey whispers, looking lovingly at his partner. Ian scrunches his nose at him, leans down to kiss him again, this time pressing his tongue gently against Mickey’s. Mickey hums, cups Ian’s neck, starts spreading his legs underneath the sheet and Ian groans, gently tugging on Mickey’s lip and dragging his hand over his hip under the sheet.

“You trying to start something?” Ian teases, gently squeezing Mickey’s hip, removing his lips from Mickey’s to gently mouth at his jaw and neck. Mickey grins and drags his fingers through Ian’s hair, tugging at the soft strands, gently biting down on his bottom lip when Ian nips at that spot under his ear again.

“Tryin’ to,” Mickey rasps and Ian smiles against his neck. 

“That makes two of us,” Ian whispers, pressing his lips to Mickey’s again. It’s these simple close-lipped kisses, the ones that make Mickey’s stomach flutter, the ones where Ian hums and Mickey can barely feel the tip of his tongue through the space of his lips, the ones where Ian smiles and lets their lips linger for a few moments before he goes on. Mickey’s the first one to initiate it though; he parts his lips slowly, inviting Ian’s tongue to gently press against his again and it’s _heavenly._ Mickey moans when Ian begins to flip them so Mickey’s on top, their lips still pressed together, tongues touching and their breaths mixing. Normally Mickey would make a comment about how Ian’s breath smells and then Ian would go brush his teeth, but Mickey’s too far gone to care right now, too engrossed in Ian and the quietness that is their apartment, their own space, their own _place._

Ian sighs against Mickey’s lips, parting his own again and sitting up on the mattress, reaching up to hold Mickey’s face in his hands. Mickey groans when he feels Ian’s length brush against his own and he begins to gently grind his hips down against Ian’s lap. Ian smiles and moans at the same time, his long fingers gently resting against the back of Mickey’s head, Mickey’s own fingers ghosting over Ian’s neck and shoulders, his thumbs caressing his jaw. It’s _everything,_ the way their lips are sore and their mouths are becoming tired but the gentle caress of fingers and the cold metal of their wedding rings against each others’ rapidly warming skin, is truly heaven. 

“I love you,” Mickey breathes, “love you so much.”

“I love you,” Ian repeats, tugging Mickey by his arm to bring him closer to his chest, his lips finding his jaw again and sucking soft kisses into the skin. 

“You smell so good,” Ian chuckles into his neck, making Mickey hum. Ian moves his mouth along Mickey’s warm skin, nibbling and sucking kisses into it. Feeling his heartbeat against his own chest, his ribs, the hair from his legs, his nipples, everything meeting his own skin. 

“Can you make me come?” Mickey asks, almost as if he doesn’t realize he asked the question. Ian feels like he stops breathing for a second, but he places one more kiss to his shoulder before meeting his eyes again. 

“Tell me how,” Ian whispers as he simultaneously reaches for the lube behind them on the nightstand. Mickey tugs his lower lip into his mouth when Ian opens the bottle and squeezes the liquid onto his fingers. It excites Ian, makes his stomach flutter when he sees how aroused Mickey becomes just from this. 

“Your fingers first,” Mickey closes his eyes, climbs off of Ian’s lap, lays back on the mattress in the opposite direction of the headboard. Ian smiles at him when Mickey spreads his legs a bit to allow Ian to lay between them.

“You wanna play, huh?” Ian teases, slowly reaching between Mickey’s legs to press his fingers against him. Mickey’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling and he grips Ian’s bicep between his fingertips. Ian slowly, _so slowly,_ circles his fingers against Mickey and revels in the little noises he makes, the way his eyebrows contort and his lips fall open in these perfect O shapes.

“Mick,” Ian whispers, lowering his head to suck a kiss to the inside of Mickey’s thigh, “tell me.”

“ _Fuck,_ please,” Mickey whines. Ian’s not sure if he’s saying ‘yes’ to him or if he’s simply too enthralled in Ian slowly pumping his fingers in and out of him. 

“Be good and we’ll play, okay?” _This is gonna be fun._

Ian spends a good five minutes getting Mickey off with his fingers alone, pressing and curling his fingertips inside of him, feeling the way his legs tighten around his hand and the way Mickey’s brow is furrowed and his left hand, where his wedding ring rests, is gripping Ian’s lower back. Ian looks between them to see his cock leaking precome and he wants to stop before he comes so he can touch him and kiss him and taste him some more.

So as Mickey’s beginning to near his end, soft _unhs_ leaving his parted lips, Ian stops, removes his hand from between his legs, kisses the inside of his knee. Then Ian then taps the inside of his thigh with his fingers, indicating he wants Mickey to turn over onto his stomach. _Fuck,_ he already knows what’s coming next. Ian tugs him up gently by the hips, resting a pillow underneath his hips to soothe his slowly softening cock. The fibers of the pillowcase feel _amazing_ against Mickey’s warming skin and when Ian leans his head down to press an open-mouthed kiss below Mickey’s ass, he can’t help but push his hips back and moan gently. 

“Nuh huh, stop it,” Ian warns, “or you’re not coming.” 

“Fuck,” Mickey whispers, his forehead lowering to the mattress. Ian situates himself behind him, placing open-mouthed kisses to the insides of his thighs and below his ass over and over again, making Mickey roll his hips into the pillow beneath him. 

_“Ian,”_ he moans, trying his hardest to not push his hips back. Ian tsks when he notices him squirming but gently presses his lips to Mickey’s lower back, just above the curve of his ass. _He’s doing this on fucking purpose,_ Mickey thinks, becoming irritated when Ian purposely doesn’t put his mouth where Mickey wants it. He wants to come so _fucking bad._

“I know, you’re being so good, okay? Just hold on,” Ian whispers against the back of his thigh, his hand resting on his calf, thumb dragging over the skin softly. Mickey bites his bottom lip trying to stay quiet (because he honestly never knows what’s going to happen when Ian gets like this), but when Ian nips at the skin under his ass again, he can’t take it anymore and moans softly into the mattress.

“Please,” Mickey whines softly, feeling the vibration of Ian’s chuckle against his warm skin. 

“You’re so good for me, you know that?” Ian’s tongue touches him then, so softly and so tenderly and he gasps, pushing his hips back then, back against Ian’s open _fucking mouth_ and he nearly comes right then.

“You’re so good, Mick,” he moans, pressing his mouth against his opening, his hands on his thighs, pulling, tasting, licking, his tongue pressing in and out at the most amazing pace. _Fuck,_ he’s so fucking _good_ at this. 

_“Unh, fuck,”_ Mickey’s hips press back again while Ian’s tongue presses in and out, his mouth covering him over and over again, “feels so...fuck, so fucking _good.”_

He comes in seconds, almost catching Ian off guard, but with Mickey almost coming the first time, there was no way he was going to last long this time.

Ian keeps mouthing at him until he comes down, resting lazily against the mattress, and Ian presses one more kiss to the back of his husband’s thigh before laying his body over Mickey’s back. Mickey moans when he feels Ian’s own length pressing against his ass, but then smiles lazily when Ian presses his lips to the back of his neck.

“I haven’t come yet,” Ian whispers against his ear; Mickey groans.

“You’re gonna have to give me at least 10 minutes, man. Fuck,” he breathes tiredly. Ian smiles against his skin, pressing his lips to his shoulder and letting them rest there.

“That was so fuckin’ hot by the way,” Mickey says, his eyes closed while Ian’s still lying on top of him. 

“Mm, it was,” Ian agrees, “kinda sexy too.”

Ian sees a faint blush spread across Mickey’s cheek at his words and he feels Mickey trying to turn over onto his back, so he lifts himself off of him to allow him. Ian lays over him again when Mickey spreads his legs again, allowing Ian to fit himself between them and he lays his chin against his chest, drawing circles into his skin with his fingers. Mickey’s fingers drag against his back gently, over the curve of his ass, his hips, gently tickling over the backs of his thighs. Ian smiles as he does. 

“You’re thinking,” Ian says, breaking the calm silence that’s settled over them. Mickey sighs, keeps dragging his fingers over Ian’s skin slowly as Ian does the same to him. 

“Not really,” Mickey admits, “just...basking?”

Ian hums, pulling himself up Mickey’s body more to press his lips to his. Mickey smiles against his mouth and keeps his hands at his back. Ian’s hands rest in Mickey’s hair, carding through the strands gently. 

“Wanna bask while we’re making love?” Ian presses his body against Mickey’s, feels himself molding against him as they do and Mickey hisses softly when Ian spreads his thighs, positioning himself over his fucking _gorgeous_ husband. 

“You need anything?” Ian notices the way he looks uncomfortable and tries his best to make sure he isn’t. 

“No...no, man. I’m good, just....go slow, yeah?”

Ian smiles at him, gently nudges against Mickey’s opening, both of them watching as Ian sinks down against his body; the look of pure pleasure on Mickey’s face and the fucking _sound_ that leaves his mouth are enough to make Ian finish right there. 

“Oh my...oh _fuck,”_ Ian breathes, rolling his hips slowly into Mickey’s, feeling his thighs squeeze gently around Ian’s waist, his fingers digging into Ian’s bicep and hip. Ian shudders, his hips stuttering gently against Mickey’s; he lowers himself down to Mickey’s chest, burrowing his face in his neck as Mickey’s hands wrap around Ian’s upper back, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, Ian’s mouth pressing to the skin of Mickey’s neck. He blows hot breath against his neck as one of his hands comes up to rest on the side of Mickey’s head, the other gripping his hip gently. It feels _so good,_ everything. Ian’s mouth, his lips, his hands, his legs, hips, the fucking slow drag of his length in and out of him, the sounds he’s making while Mickey does the same. 

“You feel so...so fucking _good,_ Mick, _gonna come,”_ Ian moans into his neck, his hips starting to slow at a leisurely pace. Mickey groans, closes his eyes, squeezes Ian’s hip with one of his hands, the other tugging gently at his hair. He presses his lips to Ian’s ear, breathes lowly, whispers, _“right there, yes, yes, right there, Ian, fuck,”_ and Ian rocks his hips slightly faster to get them both there. 

“Come for me, wanna feel you,” Ian moans, bringing his face from Mickey’s neck to press their open mouths together, _“wanna feel you.”_

 _“There, right there, fuck_ , I’m gonna come,” Mickey moans into his mouth, his thighs squeezing around Ian’s waist, his ass clenching around Ian’s length as he comes hard, _so fucking hard,_ he throws his head back against the mattress, his fingers digging into Ian’s shoulder and hip as he finishes between their stomach. 

_“Fuck,”_ Ian whispers as he comes seconds later, gentle, little final rocks of his hips into Mickey’s, his length beginning to soften the minute he falls on top of Mickey’s chest. Mickey’s heart thrums gently against Ian’s own, his fingers carding through Ian’s damp hair and Ian’s fingers dragging through his hair while he’s still resting inside of him. 

“I fucking love you,” Ian breathes, gently pressing his lips to Mickey’s. Mickey smiles against his mouth, his tongue gently tracing his bottom lip. 

“Love you,” he whispers, then pauses before speaking low again, “that was so good. Jesus.”

Ian chuckles against his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Having our own place is nice right?”

“Fuck yes it is,” Mickey smiles up at his husband, threading his fingers through his hair and lowering him down to meet his lips. Ian hums into the kiss, giving Mickey little pecks on the lips before he finally pulls out of him and lays next to him, glancing over at the clock again on the nightstand. 

“8:45,” he frowns, turning his head to look at Mickey, who begins to laugh gently, “I made you come three times in forty-five minutes! That’s gotta be like, my worst record yet!” Ian exclaims. Mickey turns his body to face him, cupping his cheek, his thumb dragging over his cheekbone. 

“Means we’re gettin’ old, Gallagher,” Mickey winks at him then pulls him in for another soft kiss. Ian groans. 

“Not funny.” He pouts like a ten-year-old as Mickey begins to climb off the bed to get ready for the day. Their first day getting ready for work in their own place. It makes Ian giddy all over again. 

“Come on, old man. Let’s see if you can go for round four,” Mickey teases him as he begins to walk across the hallway to the bathroom. Ian nearly kills himself running over to meet Mickey, but he backs him into the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door, cause...well they don’t _have to._ Ever again. _For now._

“Old man,” Ian hums as he turns on the shower. Mickey smiles at him, his teeth showing. Ian wraps his arms around his waist while he waits for the water to heat up some. 

“My old man,” Mickey wraps his hands around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him and Ian hauls him into the shower, both of them giddy and laughing uncontrollably as they start their new lives together in their very own place. In their very own space.


End file.
